Exposed
by knittedcoffee
Summary: One-shot, Non-Magic, Modern AU: Everyone knew that Professor Riddle and Professor Granger hated each other. Both taught art history and archaeology, but had very different views on how to handle relics. What happens when they explore Albanian forests and find something more than relics from the time of the Founders of the University of Hogwarts?


**Tomione AU Friday – Campfire Prompt**

_**Exposed**_

**Cultural Heritage**

_It wasn't supposed to be like this. She was _**not** _supposed to be stuck in a cave with Professor Tom Riddle. She should be at the inn right now, curled up next to her scrolls and texts with a mug of hot chocolate. Ugh, she could curse herself for letting him to convince her to enter the cave. If it hadn't had been for those damn runes that interested her so much…_

Everyone knew that Professor Riddle and Professor Granger hated each other. Both taught art history and archeology (she specialized Latin and translations, he specialized in restoring art and charming the locals), but had very different views on how to handle relics. Their arguments echoed through the hallways of the University of Hogwarts, often drawing bystanders to watch the spectacle. Today was no different.

"We don't even know where it is!" Professor Granger exclaimed as she tried to keep up with Professor Riddle's long legs on the walk to the Dean of History's office. Hermione was dressed more formally than normal. Her typical skirt and blouse had been replaced by a form-fitted black dress with heels. Her hair was back in a chignon, and she had put on more than her usual amount of makeup.

"We'll find some locals who know the legend and they'll point us in the right direction."

"Well, say we do find it. What would you do with it?"

"Make a profit."

"No! We are not selling Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem! _If _we do find it, we need to restore the artifact to its original condition, study it, and then bring it to the museum here so the students can appreciate a part of the school's heritage before we return it to the descendants of Rowena!"

Both she and Tom were petitioning for an archeological expedition to Albania to study medieval folklore and legends. As usual, they had very different reasons for going. She wanted to study the myth of the Bloody Baron and the Grey Lady, and Tom wanted to find the Diadem among some other historical artifacts.

"No. The families of the founders of Hogwarts have obviously forgotten it and will not understand its significance in history. You and I are the only ones who care about it. We need to publish our findings and bring it back to Edinburgh for auction and if someone wishes to buy it, let them. Our department needs all the funding it can get."

Tom, although he always dressed to impress, looked ready to propose in a formal black suit that made all the girls in the school swoon.

"You can't just buy a piece of someone's cultural heritage!" She roared at him, causing a piece of her hair to fall out of place. Tom stopped in the middle of the hallway and she almost crashed into him. He turned to face her.

"Your hairpin, it's Greek correct?" He tucked her stray hair back into place, making sure to whisk his hand over the tip of her now red ears. His hand grazed golden pin. It was a Hellenistic golden spire with a lion's face inside. Its ruby eyes twinkled up at him.

"Yes," she stuttered, "I got it during my semester abroad junior-year when I was studying in Athens."

"Then you, I'm afraid," he said as he touched his forefinger to her nose, "have bought a piece of someone's cultural heritage." He turned around and continued walking without a second thought, and Hermione stood there for a moment, flustered and confused, before storming after him.

**BewareTheHeir29**

_The cave was a secret lair hidden in the forest. Old pagan families who believed in dark magic used to worship here. Based on the village gossip, this was the cave where the Baron had slaughtered Helena before killing himself. No one came here anymore because they believed it was haunted. Hermione and Tom had entered the cave at noon, but quickly realized just how_ _**long**_ _it was. Although they were an efficient team and covered the engravings on the cave walls quickly, they still had another two miles worth of unmarked territory. It had been Tom who suggested that they spend the night there, his argument being that they would save more time and energy if they were already at the site and didn't have to travel to town and back. It made sense to do this, but it didn't mean that Hermione had to like it._

Hermione threw her suitcase on her bed and began prowling through her drawers for clothing to pack. She couldn't believe that Dean Lupin and Headmaster Dumbledore had cleared their expedition. Her roommate, a quiet med-student named Cho, leaned against the doorframe while her other roommate, Ginny tried to fold the quickly growing pile of clothes near the suitcase.

"Are you sure you really want to do this 'Mione?" Cho asked.

"I'm sure I want to go to Albania and study medieval witches and runes? Yes! I've been waiting my whole life to go there and study the forested castles and rune books."

"No…I mean about going with Riddle." Hermione stopped her frantic looking and sighed.

"It's not really a choice. Either both of us get the grant to go or neither of us do, and that money would go towards Cormac buying another ski vacation for himself as he," she made air quotes with her hands, "wrestled with the mythical existence of the Yeti." Cho chuckled at that.

"He's almost as bad as Lockhart."

"Thank god Lupin's the Dean and not him. All the money would go towards another portrait of himself if Lockhart were president." Hermione added.

"But seriously Hermione, do you really want to spend a week alone with him?" Ginny asked.

"I don't trust him." Cho whispered as if he could hear their every word.

"I don't either." Hermione confessed.

"Then don't go!" Ginny nearly shouted with an exasperated sigh.

"But it's the only shot I have at going to Albania and studying Helena!"

"You know what he did to Ginny…" Cho reminded her gently.

"He practically catfished me online." Ginny curled up against Hermione's pillow.

"That was never confirmed. We just _think_ he did it." Hermione replied.

"You **know **it was him! Who else would have the username 'BewareTheHeir29' ?" Hermione rubbed her temples, feeling a migraine setting in. "Oh no. Don't tell me you're _defending _him now?" The brunette mumbled something under her breathe, but the group couldn't hear. "Oh my god. I don't know why I didn't see it before!" Ginny sat up straight in utter shock.

"What?" Hermione asked, more confused than ever.

"You like him!"

"I do not!"

"Oh really? Because even Hagrid, who is the most oblivious person ever, has commented on the sexual tension between you two!"

"You're being ridiculous." Hermione protested as she began shoving the clothes into her bag.

"Just be careful, Hermione." Cho warned.

**Seven Years**

_They were far enough into the cave that they could not see the sun setting outside, forcing them to make a fire. Tom had grabbed the wood a few hours earlier, almost instinctively knowing they would need it later. Hermione had offered to make the fire; she had been camping with her parents many times as a child. While she stacked the firewood, Tom unrolled the sleeping bags, humming to himself all the while. It was oddly comforting and…well, how else could set put it? Domestic._

Hermione opted taking the taxi to the airport. She was not in the mood to hear her friends slander her co-worker. She knew he was a sneaky bastard, but if he hadn't helped her pitch the Albania trip, she'd be in her dingy closet-sized office right now. Tom was waiting for her outside of the drop-off area, dressed in khakis and a loose chambray shirt. Looking down at her own chambray dress, she cursed herself, wishing they didn't have such similar sense in fashion. She grabbed her suitcase and purse from the cab and began walking.

"Where's your merry band of idiots? I thought they would have wished you off." He picked up his leather duffle bag and joined her.

"They all had work."

"Even your imbecile boyfriend?"

"Ronald is not an imbecile, and he has work especially early today because he's in for detective training."

"Oh. Pity." Tom commented with no emotion in his voice. "I'll miss another chance to stun him into silence." He doesn't say anything else while they go through the TSA at Edinburgh, and she somewhat missed the sound of his voice. She almost forgot he was behind her in line until he touched her back to get past her and grab his carry-on from the conveyor belt.

He was quiet on the plane too, plugged into his cello music and writing beautiful notes in the margins of a textbook. Tom had managed to snag them seats in first-class, and Hermione leaned back into the blue leather and smiled a little. She'd only ever flown economy-class before. She was so enthralled with everything that she didn't notice when Tom glanced over at her with sincere smile on his face.

As the plane took off, she gripped the armrest out of habit. She loved flying, but the takeoff and landing still made her anxious. She was glancing out of the window on her left when Tom squeezed her hand. Hermione looked up at him and was surprised to see he wasn't judging her. He didn't appear nervous, but the way he's gripping her hand tells her how worried he is. She squeezed his hand in return before returning to the window.

A little while later, the old woman sitting across the aisle from them asked, "How long?"

"Pardon?" Tom took out one of his ear buds.

"How long have you two been together?"

"Oh we're not-" Hermione began before Tom cut her off.

"Don't be embarrassed, Hermione," He glances down at her and his eyes warn _don't question it. _

_"_Seven years." He answered, and the old woman smiles. Hermione smiled back and internally kicked Tom in the face. Seven years! It was bad enough that he was lying to an innocent old woman, but to say they had been dating for not one, not two, but seven years? Ugh, she didn't know why she puts up with him. But she thinks to herself for a moment and remembered that yes, they had known each other for seven years now. They had first met junior year and had completed their masters together before joining the university staff.

"That's lovely. Just remember: if you don't put a ring on her finger, someone else will." The woman waggled her finger at Tom in a teasing manner before asking the fly attendant for an orange juice. Hermione's cheeks matched her red scarf and she wished she was a ghost right now. Tom leaned over to her and whispered, "It's easier to lie to little old ladies about these kinds of things than break their hearts over the truth."

Hermione couldn't help but think he sounded sad when he said 'truth'. He readjusted himself in his seat, put his ear bud back in, and continued reading. It's not until she was falling asleep that she noticed their stilling holding hands.

**S'mores**

_While Hermione documented the cave walls with eagerness, Tom snuck outside to "gather firewood". But he had a different mission. Just like the innkeeper had told him, the tree next to the cave had a hollow inside. It was overgrown now and covered in moss, so Tom had to gingerly maneuver his hands through it. He didn't want to make it look as if the tree had been tampered with. And then, it was in his hands. The sapphires glistened in the sun and the silver was warm to the touch, as if the Grey Lady had just tucked it away. Call him crazy, but Tom believed, just like Helena, that this diadem possessed special powers. And the fact that the crown nested in the tree still looked brand new spoke volumes about his theory._

They sat around the campfire now. Tom kept adjusting the backpack he was using as a pillow. Hermione stoked the fire again.

"I didn't know you could start a fire." She shrugged and continued adding twigs to the pile. She was careful to build the stack on a diagonal so the smoke would blow away from them.

"I didn't know you spoke Albanian." He shrugged and played with the zippers on his backpack.

"It was nice seeing Mr. Krum again. I must wonder though, what will dear Ronald say?"

"Ronald is more amicable with him now, but he has no say in the matter because we're not dating."

Tom sat up. "Since when? You two have been attached at the hip since I've known you."

"We actually broke up before I met you. He's just very protective - I'm like a sister to him and Harry." Tom sat in silence for a bit, smiling to himself.

After a bit of silence, he changed topics. "What did you find about the legend?" He rummaged in his bag for a journal to take notes.

"Well, I got more from the archives in the village, but the paintings in here add to the theory. Essentially, everything we think about Helena and the Baron is false. The double murder-suicide? Faked." He looked from his scribbling.

"You're kidding!" He moved closer towards her in astonishment.

"I'm completely serious. The Baron was actually Salazar's illegitimate son, and therefore he wasn't of high enough birth to marry Helena, but she loved him anyway. She stole her mother's diadem so she could sell it and start her own school, and Rowena chose the Baron to go after her, saying that if he could find her, he could marry her. They met here in this cave and conspired against her mother. Helena knew she was lying about the marriage, so they instead faked a murder and suicide to make her mother miserable. She couldn't move herself to part from the diadem, so they joined the pagans who lived in these caves. Helena and the Baron were burnt at the stake for witchcraft shortly after the birth of their third child, and those children, the Heirs of Ravenclaw and Slytherin, were raised by Salazar."

He stared at her in awe. "This is incredible. If we publish this, we'll make Hogwarts history! If only we had the diadem."

"Yes," Hermione whispered as she noticed the shining object in his backpack, "if only." At first she thought it wa's his watch, but he was wearing it right now. "If only you weren't keeping it for yourself." She pulled the diadem from his bag while he growled in horror.

"Give that back!" He reached out for it, but she moved it above her head.

"I just want to look at." She lowered it slowly and angled it away from him while she examined it closely. "It's beautiful." She handed it back to him. He cradles it in his palms, baffled. "Just promise you won't sell it - it's too valuable." He looked up at her.

"I wouldn't dare sell it." He grabbed a velvet cloth bag from his backpack and slipped the diadem inside.

"So, how many other relics have you been holding on to?"

"This is now seven."

"Seven?" She gasped in astonishment. "In the name of Hogwarts, you'll be burned at the stake too if Dumbledore finds out!"

"He won't." Tom's smiled in the dark, but the fire light glinted in his white teeth.

"When have you had the time to go relic hunting?"

"During our annual expeditions - it seems you're my good luck charm." She raised an eyebrow before he pulled out his phone. He unlocked it and opened the photos app. "See?" He handed her the phone and she scrolled through the very few photos he has.

She recognized a few: Rowena's diadem, Helga's cup, Salazar's locket, and the Gaunt ring. Hermione finds a photo of a battered leather-bound journal. "Why's the journal important?"

"It's one of Nicolas Flamel's notebooks and it was passed onto Leonardo DaVinci. I found it buried in the maintenance closet at school."

"And the snake?" She gestured to the mischievous serpent in the photo.

"A souvenir from our time in Egypt. It's a golden bracelet that belonged to the High Priestess of Cleopatra."

And then she scrolled to a photo that amazed her. "The Boy? That painting was destroyed in the ransack on Godric's Hallow."

"I restored it. It had a massive slash through the forehead, so I stitched it back up. He has a little scar on his forehead now that looks like a lightning bolt."

"So you have most of the Founders' relics then?"

"I'm still missing Godric's Sword. It's hanging up in Dumbledore's office, so there's no way I will ever have it."

"That one's a fake. Dumbledore bought it off Amazon."

"No! I've studied that sword for years - it exactly matches all the descriptions in the textbooks, right down to the scratch on the hilt."

"I'm telling you, Dumbledore bought it."

"And how would you know?"

"Because I have it." She unzipped a tiny pocket in her pocket and pulled out the Grecian hairpin she'd worn earlier this week. Although the top does look like a hairpin head, the "pin" itself in a golden dagger of sorts. "His sword was actually a dagger he used as a letter opener. I found it in a knickknack shop Godric started after he retired in Athens.

"And you say I've stolen! Oh, that's rich now! That's the pot calling the kettle black."

"Well, now that we've both been exposed, do you want s'mores?"

"What's a s'more?" She blinked at him before remembering he wouldn't have known about this in a foster home. Hermione pulled out the graham crackers, chocolate bar, and marshmallow packet Victor had given her last night. While she roasted the s'mores, he examined the hairpin with fascination.

"No, you can't keep it," she teased him as she handed him his s'more. He stared at the dessert blankly. "You eat it Tom." She took a bite of her to demonstrate. He followed suit, and his face lit up as he bit into it.

"This is really good," he sighed with satisfaction. He gobbled the rest of it up in a few bites. She handed him another marshmallow on a stick and they rotated them together. With a slightly golden marshmallow on each stick, they "toasted".

"To preserving art that others would sell at a garage sale." Hermione said.

"And to learning about each other." He replied. They pulled their marshmallows off the sticks and plopped them onto a layer of chocolate and put on its graham cracker hat. "So about you **not** dating the imbecile…"

"Yes?" Hermione took a bit out of the gooey treat.

"How come you never dated Victor?"

"How come you never dated Bellatrix?"

"Touché." He laughs. "Bella's a good friend - a bit crazy, mind you. I would be too if I was stuck in the morgue all day. But she isn't who I want to date." He eyed Hermione, but she couldn't understand what his eyes were trying to say. "What about Victor though? He's obviously smitten with you."

"Hmm . . . he's a lovely man and one of my dearest friends. But, like you said, he isn't who I wanted to date."

"We don't get to choose who we love." He mentioned quietly.

"No, we most certainly do not." She whispered, forcing herself to look away from his eyes. If she looked at the deep grey pools too long, she'd surely fall into them. "There were a few times I could imagine dating Victor," she started, bringing them back to the original conversation. "I grew up being told I was only smart or only beautiful, and Victor was one of the first to tell me I was both…"

"I can fix that." He lifted her chin up so she had to look at him. "You're not smart and you're not beautiful." She was about to balk at this, put he grazed his thumb over her lips. "Because you are so much more than that." Her lips rushed to his, and he had to brace himself with his other hand. His lips tasted like chocolate and shock. Her lips felt like the familiar pages of an old paperback book. It's not perfect like the movies say it is, and it's not clumsy like most first kisses are. Because it's so much more than that.


End file.
